Everyday life in a rickety old French farmhouse with two very lively Polish Lowland Sheepdogs.
A record of those little things too unimportant for a diary but too important to be forgotten.

Saturday, February 7, 2015

"There is more to us than some of us suppose".

The snow lighter. The temperatures glaciale. This morning what's left of the snow makes a very satisfying ( to PON ears at least ) crackling noise underfoot. Sophie squeals with delight. The village wakes.No sign of the missing Goldens. The locals, being dog folk, alert a network of farmers in an ever widening radius.Why can't people think before they open their mouths ? A woman from the next village stops by to tell the French teacher that there's a dangerous wild boar about . It's rumoured to have killed three hunting dogs last weekend. '' By this stage it'll have got yours ". This, as you can imagine, is not well received.

Over lunch I comment that after four nights it's a hopeless task. '' Would you give up on these two so quickly ? " asks 'the font' looking at Bob and Sophie. Point taken. We carry on with the search. Strange how something like two lost dogs brings people together. The villagers may be constantly squabbling but they respect the teacher and the education she imparts. They are uncomplicated in their willingness to help. A French country belief in the sanctity of the world and its creatures One of lifes little crises. Too small for a diary but recorded here for what it says about people.

We'll keep saying prayers for their safe return... stranger things have happened. Maybe they holed up in a barn or something. When Momma wuz young, they had a kitty go missing for over a week. Momma called and called and thought she heard him crying. Evfurryone told her she wuz imaginin' things... Well, after about a week, she and her brother were out in their backyard, tossing a ball around. It went ovfur da naybor's fence and brother went after it. He came back over the fence with a big smile. Oliver was found. He had gotten himself locked in the naybor's workshop-- since it was winter, no one had been in there for days and days. But a bucket of water was in there that they had soaked the Christmas tree in and that is what kept him alive.Seems Momma wuz right when she thought she heard him. Maybe they will find the pups in someone's outbuilding...

Unfortunately some people, like the woman in the next village, rejoice in relaying distressing news - no doubt she is not a dog owner. We just pray that the pups are somewhere safe and will somehow find their way home. This morning Sophie has a definite "don't mess with me" look on her face - is it because someone forgot to bring the biscuits?

Miracles do happen. Lost pets are found. We had a friend who lost her beloved Maine Coon Cat for over two months. She never ever gave up hope.One day, she heard a 'meow' from a closed up barn-garage in her community. It had been locked up for the winter. Inside……her beloved cat!Alive, happy to be found, and still living a good life today - many years later. So - the French teacher should keep looking in all kinds of places……who knows? This time - the FONT knows best.

How thoughtless and unsympathetic of that woman to say something like that to the poor teacher lady.Don't stop looking for the goldens, ....the Font is right as always....please don't give up. I'd be looking 24/7 if it were my sweet boy Brownie.I hope they're found soon.

I opened this page before anything else this morning hoping for good news. This is beyond sad, wish we could all be there helping with the search. The font has great wisdom and imparted the needed motivation for you. As for the other lady she is so unhelpful she needs to stay away. Best of luck in the search from rainy Vancouver BC.

oh i so hope for good news.does anyone have the dog whistle that only dogs can hear? maybe the sound would go farther? i don't know. just grabbing at straws here.i searched for a dog of mine for days on end once. it's the not knowing that's unbearable. will hold only GOOD thoughts. bless you and the font for helping.

About Me

2004, we sell the rain drenched farm in Scotland and move to the warmth of southern Europe. Two very lively Polish Lowland Sheepdog brothers - Wilf and Digby - accompany us. Fluffy,patient and comical . Forever attracting laughter and new friends . After a year in Provence we moved to Italy to restore an ancient Roman watchtower . Somethings are meant not to be. Following a rather unpleasantly violent 'housejacking' ( the third in our little village ) we left Italy in late 2009 for new adventures in the rolling countryside of south west France . We are now getting to grips with a large rickety old farmhouse. Life after the violence of Italy has a gentler tempo. Digby passed on from piroplasmosis in May 2010. HIs brother, despite being diagnosed with cancer and having become blind ,soldiered on for another two years. We now embark on the next part of our journey with two new PON's - Bob and Sophie. This blog records all those little things about living with dogs that are too unimportant to make it into a diary but which make life, life.